Slowly she floated nearer––she stopped before him, and laid a hand upon his shoulder––it was cold, cold as ice! He tried to call out––to rise––to break away––
And then, groaning aloud, and with his brow dripping perspiration, he awoke.
Hood entered, but stopped short when he saw his master’s white face. “Mr. Ames! You are ill!” he cried.
Ames passed a hand across his wet forehead. “A––a little tired, that’s all, I guess. What now?”
The lawyer laid a large envelope upon the desk. “It has come,” he said. “There’s a delegation of Avon mill hands in the outer office. Here are their demands. It’s just what I thought.”
Ames slowly took up the envelope. For a moment he hesitated. Again he seemed to see that smiling girl before him. His jaw set, and his face drew slowly down into an expression of malignity. Then, without examining its contents, he tore the envelope into shreds, and cast the pieces into the waste basket.
“Put them out of the office!” he commanded sharply. “Wire Pillette at once to discharge these fellows, and every one else concerned in the agitation! If those rats down there want to fight, they’ll find me ready!”